


Unified

by StarlightCaptivator



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, IDW intersection, M/M, Multi, Sparklings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightCaptivator/pseuds/StarlightCaptivator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a sequestered Prime learns to see Cybertron for how it really is, and an Archivist helps him build something new. </p><p>Warnings, characters and tags will be added as this is updated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Matrix of Leadership was never wrong.

It wouldn't have led Conciliator Chronicle to this Primus forsaken corner of Cybertron if there wasn't business there. The priesthood told him that Tarn would be where someone should go with a spark resonator, and the Council sent him there right away. Guttermechs, miners and other assorted working mecha eyed him as he passed by them. He was sure the only thing that kept the degenerates off of him was the brand and official mark of the council on his cape- there would be no life to live for long if they assaulted someone that was  _important._  The enforcers wouldn't be afraid of coming down hard on the likes of  _them._

He arrived at the mecha factory exactly when he was scheduled to. As things shut down at the announcement of his arrival he felt a small burst of pride for his kin - even in a Pit like Tarn, there were still bots that kept their scrap together.

He went through the higher-class sparks first, starting with those not yet in frame. The sorter had deemed them destined to go to expensive sparkling frames, and they'd be off to be adopted and mentored by the Tarnian elite. His resonator found nothing of import among them, and for just an astrosecond he doubted the Priesthood's judgment.

His frustration grew and grew at each subsequent failure. The resonator remained silent and still through the mechs already in frame, to those destined to a comfortable life under the elite. It gave no indication of function until he passed through the doors of the factory to the area meant for sorting mecha that would end up in menial labor.

Conciliator Chronicle silenced the foreman of the factory, even as she was babbling apologies to him when a soft chime exuded from the resonator. The crystal in it's center began to let off a faint glow as the soft note continued, letting him know his journey was nearly at an end. Again, there was little luck to be found until the resonator led him to a corral full of sparklings.

They were ugly, blocky little cretins, destined for a life in the mines that would likely be short. There were just some spaces too small for even a mining minibot to handle. Those that survived would stay in the mines, with pay owed those who gave the years of service that mecha like them did.  All of them had brand new yellow and black decals and their collective dull plating in different shades of silvers was likely to never see this level of cleanliness again. The tiny mechs stared up at the Conciliator with wide optics and he realized that this was likely to be the first - and last - time they saw anybody as well kept as he was.

All but one.

The resonator was fully lit and it sang it's song still in that soft timbre, but now there was no way to mistake it. He had the foreman magnalock the sparklings to their corral floor and held the resonator over each of their small helms. It finally indicated over one near the back of the corral, the little wretch peeped in wonder as the white crystal turned blue and let out light of that color in turn. The timbre changed too, to a far lower frequency that matched the frequency of the sacred singing crystals that adorned the hub temple itself.

With grim amusement, Conciliator Chronicle gazed down at the blocky sparkling.

"Found you, little Prime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's some things that will never fail to make me happy in fic it's Megatron that hasn't been completely trodden upon by the world and MegOP. :D Also someone else besides Orion/Optimus being Prime. That's gotta be one of my favorite tropes. This is super indulgent, and I hope to update it pretty regularly, as the chapters seem pretty short so far.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Had it not been for the powerful relic in his chest, The Prime would wish to have nothing to do with the complex morays of religion. The matrix gave a weak pulse in reply that he had taken to mean amusement in the vorns it had been lodged inside him.

It had been there for as long as he could remember and because of that, so had the presence of the past matrix bearers been nestled in the back in his mind.

His world was narrow and it felt suffocatingly more so the older he got. As a young mech, his world was full of shining  mechs cloaked in delicate fabrics that sat him through days of lessons of history and religious movements and an urgent sense of self that weighed on his shoulders. He learned that he would bring honor back to the name Primus gave him, honor to replace his namesake's disgrace. They told him he'd be very important to Cybertron one day quite often, but to him Cybertron was in the walls the tower he lived in. He was verboten by his caretakers from leaving - and he only gave one attempt at doing so.

His frame had been heavy plates for as much of his life he could remember, and the bulk was not conducive in the least to sneaking out of a highly guarded palace. They humored him for a short while before directing him back to his quarters with  laughing voices. The guards joked that it wasn't in his function to fight - he was too smart and kind for that sort of thing.

He believed them for a long time.

His first actual glimpse at the outside world came when he requisitioned a blank data pad along with his latest batch of check-outs from the Iacon archives. His instructors were delighted that he was interested in writing, and approved an expedited request for the materials he desired. When he got back to his personal quarters after the day's tasks, his requested data pads sat in his personal shelving unit.

Among them was one far plainer in decoration than he was used to and he pulled it out right away. It lit at his touch and after a moment of a blank screen - which led him to think in those astroseconds that it was faulty - a short message appeared on the screen.

 

_Lord Prime,_

_The cover is off the cage. Look outward, and see what lies beyond the lustre of Cybertron's surface._

_Regards,_

_A_ ³

 

He regarded the message for a long moment, trying to decide his next course of action. He decided on checking to see if there was anything else on the datapad, and wasn't surprised to find there was, under a subdirectory he hadn't seen on a leisure datapad such as this prior.

The subdirectory showed him a short list of notes, all written by his mysterious benefactor, all signed with the same designation that niggled in the back of his processor. He was unable to keep his curiosity at bay, he took a seat on his berth and scoured the first few notes. This was how he discovered his subspace pocket, and the novelty at having such a tool at his disposal. This was also how he made it on to Cybertron's network for the first time, and was exposed to the wealth of data stored on it.

It was just a short while of poking around on the network, reading through preliminary search tutorials that he was acutely struck with an intense sense of sonder.  _Anyone_  who had a datapad like this could make it on to the network. The potential was nearly overwhelming. With a sort of gaiety he hadn't felt for a long time, he delved into the world of Cybertron's internet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. They make me a little twitchy, but this is just how they'll be.... for now~. It'll be a faster roll when things get going. 
> 
> I sat here writing this just shaking my head thinking about some old bot who thinks he's cool. 
> 
> Hey, if you wanna come talk to me about this or my other fics, My [askbox](http://meridianbarony.tumblr.com/ask) on my [Tumblr](http://meridianbarony.tumblr.com) is always open. I love discussing fic. :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Sentinel Zeta Prime.

He had found his way to a real-time chat site when he had first read the name, directed by recommendations from an author group who's online cache of poetry he had pored through. The site was small as compared to others he had seen for poetry, with more topics too. Curious, he entered into the one about home life.

A couple of chatters had been discussing crystal furnitures to add to their homes when a third came on and began to bemoan pay cuts. It puzzled him to see the person lament about 'how could the Prime do this to us again' when  _he_ was the Prime - and had done no such thing. He had no contact with these people at all! Aside from those he had contacted from his datapad in the last few days he had possessed it, he only had contact with the people in the palace. 

One of the first chatters spoke up again. They consoled the third on harder times, but said that Sentinel Zeta Prime knew what was best for them and as cogs in the great machine they all had to make sacrifices sometimes. He read the line over and over again and the  _wrongness_  of it made his tanks roil and his spark ache. 

His name was certainly  _not_   Sentinel Zeta Prime or any diminutive there of. 

His name was Megatronus Prime and something was very,  _very_  wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because nobody saw that coming. :U 
> 
> This chapter is short intentionally (for once)! I actually have the next few chapters of this fic done, but they need editing so here I am. I'm actually about 2,200 mi/3500 km away from home right now, but I didn't want to leave y'all hanging for the duration of my trip, you've all been very patient already. :}
> 
> Funny story about this chapter too. Aligned continuity is a right mess, and this is no better illustrated in the whole 'Sentinel Zeta Prime' thing. Continuity can't seem to decide who went where, so here they are mooshed together as one. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

"Who is Sentinel Zeta Prime?" Megatronus had his innocent/curious/ready-to-learn face on when he asked his instructor that question, and he watched with a calculating glint in his optics as the bot nearly startled out of his plating at the question, only to ask one of his own. 

"Ahem... My Lord, where did you hear that name?" Megatronus figured this question would come next, and he had his answer prepared. 

"Ah, Last night I took a walk. I heard one of the guards talking about a 'Sentinel Zeta Prime' or a 'Zeta Prime', was it? I was winding down for recharge, I don't quite remember." It was a half truth. He _had_  taken a walk the night prior, that would be easily confirm-able. What wasn't true was the content of the guard's words. 

The guard was one he would never claim to be fond of, especially at hearing his gossip and terribly unkind words about some of the bots that helped around the palace and in the gardens. Bots he was _quite_  fond of. Wherever he was taken, he would not be missed. 

His instructor seemed to take this answer at face value, as Megatronus was nothing if not an excellent student and the lie flowed out smooth as the best oil. " Zeta Prime is a small part of the high council, that oversees the Senate.... " The instructor's optics unshuttered fully, as if a sweeping realization had come over him. "A-Ah, there's no need to worry on account of his name, Lord Prime. His position is temporary - Until you're deemed ready to lead. He is perfectly happy to step aside for you when the time comes." 

Megatronus canted his wide shoulders downwards a little, as if he was relieved to hear such. "I see! Thank you for answering my question. That clears things up. Now, shall we go back over last week's works? I feel as though my writing has done some improving..." His instructor was more than happy to change the subject to his continuing studies, but the overall tenseness and trepidation the mech practically radiated was not missed. 

 Megatronus seethed silently through the rest of his lessons but remained the face of happiness as they fed him more lies about the state of the world and how _his people_  were treated. For the long vorns of his education he had been led to believe the world he was destined to lead was a utopia, and coming into his leadership was to be done carefully to not upset said utopia. 

The weight of the lies told to him was a heavy burden and it called into question the accuracy of nearly all of his education.

The matrix sang more than it ever did before in his righteous fury, and at the end of the day he composed a message to the mysterious  _ _A__ ³.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Megatronus shows an inkling of a manipulative side. |>
> 
> Chapters seem to be getting longer from here on!
> 
> Next time, we switch gears. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Orion Pax was a mechanism of simple means and a kind face. He had a relatively comfortable life, with a good job as an archivist and a decent apartment not too far from Iacon's archives. He had friends outside of work and on the data network that kept him busy when he was able to be pried from his readings. 

 

He was the first mech to admit that he had certain privileges not always afforded to others, as the sheer nature of his job had him filtering information from the tops of the glittering towers of Vos and Iacon to their respective slums and everywhere in between. 

As it happened, he had just recently presented to a small group of council auditors on the differences on data received from such places. The richest of Kaon had all sorts of data that came in - it shared the same lack of indicator tags that the data from counterparts all over did. Slum data all came in with a peculiar set of tags that he hadn't managed to work out yet. 

The auditors must have been impressed... At least this is what they claimed, since they deigned to demand a promotion for him the very next day, Alpha Trion informed him. It didn't exactly _seem_ like a promotion when he had finished his briefing and uploaded new working orders, just an enhancement of his old job's pay paired with what seemed like some extra filing and courier work. He shared his thoughts with some friends who took him out for a modest celebration at the news. 

Jazz was over the moon with the sheer idea of being allowed entry into a building that "the common mech" wasn't allowed into on a day to day basis. Mid-level cultural investigator that he was, any opportunity to delve into the unknown or restricted would be nigh irresistible to the likes of him. Orion shared his innate curiosity, but it wasn't nearly as insatiable to make him impulsive. He winked and nudged and requested image captures if Orion could get away with taking them inside such a grand building. 

"You need to be _careful_." Red Alert cautioned over his cube. "I bet they're looking for one little screw up and _bang_ , right to the smelting pits." He took a long draw, squinting as Jazz made a motion indicating he'd be rolling his optics if they were visible at the moment. 

"I'm serious! There was probably something in that data that makes them want to keep an eye on Orion, and before we know it he'll be whisked away by council lackeys, never to be seen again!" 

His companions gave him a long, concerned look, and he ducked his helm and fidgeted with his energon. "O-or, you could lose your job, your status..." Ratchet reached over to pat Red Alert on his pauldron. 

"Don't worry, Orion knows he'll always have us to fall back on for help."

 

The next day, Orion mentally steeled himself as he reached the outer gate of the imposing building. Simple signs hung on the walls to either side forbidding entry without proper access credentials, and he thought he saw the faint shimmer above the tops of the walls, likely an alert system or a force field. He stepped up to one of the guards as they stepped up to him in turn, scanning him for his codes and his subspace for the presence of the sensitive material Alpha Trion had given him that morning. He tried to greet the guards as they scanned him, but only earned instructions to his work station inside in turn. He went on his way with a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of his fuel tanks. 

By the fourth and last checkpoint, Orion had given up trying to be cordial with the guardsmecha. Each one scanned him over and regaled his instructions upon him again, and he wondered if any of them had any inkling that he had an archivists' processor- he certainly wouldn't be forgetting his instructions any time soon. 

The inside was something else, and though he had seen a bare, citizen's schematic of the place, he never imagined it as it came to him in real life. The floor had a crystalline mirror shine to it made brighter by lights suspended in the air at points along his path. The walls looked like they had been poured into place, and intricate, tiny designs he re-categorized as nonsense glyphs of old glimmered in their settings at him.

It was all a bit overwhelming, and he was sure that but for the few times he had accompanied Alpha Trion to informational events that he had never seen anything as extravagant as this.

Red Alert's words from the night prior prickled along in the back of his memory, and he decided he would be on his best behavior. He'd have lightened his footsteps if he could, for fear of leaving a mark of his existence on the place. 

He didn't let his awe at his surroundings distract him, and before too long he found himself at a grand set of double doors. He committed the sight to memory, making a mental note to draw a recreation of the architecture for Jazz. 

The door slid aside for him at the lightest of touches - just enough to allow him entry - before closing behind him again with a sort of sound that made him feel like there was a finality in his arrival. There was an obviously marked terminal nearby that would be his new work space, but beyond the massive room was dimmed, datapads and honest-to-Primus silica-sheet books lined huge rows of shelves. 

That feeling of change grew heavy in his spark as he stepped up to the terminal and signed himself in.

After this, nothing would be the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First update of the new year! 
> 
> I told you chapters were getting longer. Let's see if they stay that way! :>
> 
> Thanks for reading~


	6. Chapter 6

Someone new was in the Primal Palace, and Megatronus couldn't remember feeling so suspicious- so _nervous_.- in all of his functioning.

"A³'s" return message hadn't made _any_ sense, and the ominous return message promising that his mysterious... 'benefactor' would 'put change in motion.'

It must have been only a matter of days between that reply and the new mech showing up, and Megatronus did _not_ trust him.

.....Though, perhaps it _was_ a little unreasonable, given the difference in size between them.

The bot didn't _look_ anything like someone who could do any damage to him. More likely... it seemed that this smaller bot was likely to be one at risk and for all of his quick scurrying back and forth over those first few weeks of his tenure there; he looked downright run-down at the end of each day, delivering things and running back and forth like he did.

Of course, Megatronus had only seen this from afar, really- from high foyers and momentary split seconds down the halls near the conference rooms and offices. 

His appearance was refreshing, compared to the blinding shine and constant shuffle of gaudy cloth adorning those Megatronus was used to.

He was far more... utilitarian, than Megatronus had seen so far as well, clean lines and minimal kibble allowed a bearing that made the matrix embedded so deeply inside his armored chestplating..... _unsettled._

There was a choice to be made, and Megatronus took it on impulse as he further tested his boundaries.

All it took was a step in the right direction on the right day at the correct time, aided by a lack of supervision during the guard change. What would be a shortcut on a rush day for Megatronus was known as a regular route for this archival bot, all it took was a slow rocking step around the corner that concealed the hallway to ask the question and the resulting crash of datapads gave him his answer. 

The smaller mech bounced right off him, nearly as if he had been hauled up by his thoracic armor and tossed that way. The moments of re-calibration that followed gave more than ample time for Megatronus to give the far smaller mech a closer-once over, when those weary expressive blue optics turned up his way, he stifled that growing unease as best he could as he held out his clawed hand in an offer of help. 

"Ah. My apologies, I didn't see you there." Of course he had seen him there, but with the assumption that this little mech wasn't a _dullard_ , he figured the most useful way of getting the information he wanted was to make their interaction as pleasant as possible. He'd be _shocked_ if this red and blue mech before him didn't come to the same conclusion, and the outsider hesitated just a moment longer before extending his hand and clasped his dull digits in Megatron's sharp ones. 

"No harm done." He said, that wariness translated into a sonorous voice that did not fit the body of it's owner in the least. Megatronus pulled him to his pedes, and that unsettled feeling bloomed a momentary impression of an image so far removed from the small mech in front of him that he'd have sworn the matrix made some nonsensical connection. Though the confidence of the optics was the same and he was sturdy for a librarian, this was no long-legged warrior. 

"My name is Orion Pax." The smaller mech hazarded a smile and shook his hand as they remained together, and Megatronus was impressed on some level. Confidence wasn't what he was seeing in Orion, it was a curiosity so innate as to inspire confidence. 

"Megatronus." He said in turn. 

The Matrix, more active and noisier than it had been in vorns, gave a pleased pulse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Casually takes 11 months to update- 
> 
> Megatronus may have the wisdom of the primes but he has no wisdom on how to deal with _dat thirst_


End file.
